


Haven

by castielanderson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Past Suicide Attempt, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielanderson/pseuds/castielanderson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas find away to make the bunker theirs, without Gadreel knowing, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haven

It started out innocent, it really did.

And it would still be innocent if they’re motivation was still purely emotional, but it’s not.  A night of heartbreak and bottled whiskey added something physical to the mix, and unfortunately (who are they kidding - it’s pretty fortunate in a kinky way), they’ve started taking the threat less seriously, making it a game.

.

If Sam hadn’t gone for one of those stupid runs, they probably wouldn’t be in this mess.

Then again, maybe they would.

.

Cas had shown up, ragged and emotional on the doorstep of the bunker, and Dean hadn’t wasted a second on letting him in.  He couldn’t do it anymore, he’d said.  He’d gotten fired from the gas station after he let out his frustrations over being unexpectedly rejected on Nora.

He’d gotten another job at a grocery store, and it was very similar, but it wasn’t easy to make a home out of a place that was open twenty-four hours a day.  He went back to living on the streets, trying to save up money to start renting an apartment, but as the days got colder, finding some place safe and warm enough got tougher, and now here Cas is - worn out, sick, and full of nothing but cynical bitterness.

.

The bunker is huge, and it’s really not hard to find a bedroom far from the main leaving place.  Dean makes it up for Cas and spends a few days taking care of him.  He tells Sam that he’s working on cars in the garage, or getting in practice on the shooting range, or taking some kind of inventory on the place.  Sam believes him, and Ezekiel never comes to to be suspicious.  It works fine enough.

.

The night that everything changes, they get drunk in Cas’ room.  Sam’s gone to bed already, and Kevin had fallen asleep a few hours before.  Dean tells Sam he’s going to stay up and do some reading.  His mind’s loud tonight, he says.  He needs a distraction.

He’s not lying, not really.  He has bad nights, and Sam knows that.  He’s just not going to read.  He’s going to park his ass in Cas’ room with a case of whiskey and they’re going to drown their sorrows together.

Cas doesn’t have a TV in his room, so instead, Dean brings a couple of his records and sets them up on the record player in the corner.  Soft rock bleeds out from the speakers and Dean settles himself on the bed next to Cas.  He grabs two bottles from where they rest on Cas’ bedside table, and they crack open the caps off at the same time.  Dean takes a long, heavy drink, smiling to himself when the liquid burns his throat.

Cas sighs, lowering his bottle.  He closes his eyes as he lays his head against the wall behind him, letting himself get lost.  It makes Dean nervous when Cas gets like this.  An uneasiness settles in his stomach, but Dean knows what Cas is feeling.  He knows that it’s hell, and he knows that he’d be a hypocrite to deprive Cas of the numbing properties of alcohol.  As long as Cas never gets a hold of painkillers, they should be fine.

For awhile, they only listen to music, occasionally taking drinks.  They don’t talk until Dean’s well on his way to finishing his second bottle, and Cas has already cracked open his third.

"I’m sorry I don’t spend as much time with you," Dean says, but he doubts Cas understands how much is behind that.  He doubts Cas understands that Dean doesn’t just mean it sucks they can’t sit together and drink all the time, because that’s not what he means at all.  

He means that, yes, he wishes he could spend every minute of every day with Cas, but he also wishes that Cas didn’t have to hide.  He wishes Cas could be an integrated part of the family.  He wishes Cas could share Dean’s room, not be stuck in solitary.  He wishes they could go out on the weekends without having to sneak out.  He wishes that Ezekiel wasn’t possessing his brother and consequently controlling every part of Dean’s life.  He wishes the only time they spent together didn’t include alcohol and heartbreak.  He wishes they could just live.

"It’s okay," Cas says, but it’s not.  It’s so far from okay.  "I agree with Ezekiel.  It’s best if nobody knows I’m here.  It’s easier that way."

"It’s not your fault," Dean presses, because it’s not.  It’s Metatron’s.  It’s Ezekiel’s.  It’s God’s.  It’s Dean’s.  It’s never Cas’.  It never has been.  Only circumstance.  

"It is," Cas disagrees, and here they go again.

Two alcoholics with self-loathing problems are prone to fighting, but Dean doesn’t want to fight.  He just wants to sleep.  He wants to forget.

"It’s not," Dean says again, "but I know I can’t change your mind."

"You can’t," Cas agrees.

Silence falls again, and Dean wishes he could shut everything off.  The lights, the world, his brain.  Everything.

When Dean opens his third bottle, and Cas finishes his, Dean speaks again.

"Sam’s probably asleep."

"Probably," Cas agrees.  "It’s late."

"Let’s do something," Dean says, and a smirk works his way onto his face.

Cas looks at him with exhaustion.  ”And what do you imagine we do?”

"Let’s go out onto the roof."

Cas almost looks eager for a moment, for reasons that Dean knows would break his heart if discovered.  As clarification, Dean adds, 

"Let’s look at the stars."

It takes a moment, but finally, Cas nods.  ”Alright.  Let’s go.”

It’s difficult, climbing up there safely in their compromised state, but eventually they succeed.  Cas is far drunker than Dean, and Dean is forced to take it upon himself to make sure that Cas doesn’t find his way off the edge of the building.

"Take a seat," Dean says, patting the space next to him.

With effort, Cas lowers himself to the floor of the roof.  Dean leans back, placing his hands underneath his head, and Cas does the same.  Dean points out some of the constellations he can make out, even though Cas has problably seen all of them up close.  He was once made of stars; he doesn’t need an astronomy lesson.  Dean just wants to fill up the silence.

After Dean finishes, Cas says abruptly, “I wish I had let Ephraim kill me.”

Dean closes his eyes, and he feels like he’s falling.  His throat is tight when he whispers, “Don’t say that, Cas.”

"It’s true," Cas replies.  "I don’t want to give you someone else to grieve.  That’s the only reason I haven’t done anything yet - " and he backtracks, " - well, I did try after you kicked me out, but I’m not accustomed to medication yet.  Nothing happened."

"Please don’t tell me anymore," Dean chokes out, voice strangled.  "Just - come - come here, Cas."  He reaches out, tugging on Cas until he rolls over and buries his face in Dean’s side.  The moment that Dean wraps his arms around him, Cas begins to cry.  Then he begins to sob, drawing deep breaths that rattle in his lungs, and shaking silently with enough force to cause an earthquake.  Dean just holds him, lets him get everything out.

When the hiccups start, then Dean moves.

"Come on, Cas.  Come on.  Let’s go back inside."

Cas says nothing, but he allows Dean to help him up.  He follows Dean back down the ladder and staircase, trailing after him as they head back to Cas’ room.

Cas collapses down on his bed, and Dean watches him.  Pain reverberates through Dean’s chest as his eyes follow the pure agony etched into the lines of Cas’ face.  He hesitates for a moment before he reaches down and cups Cas’ cheeks in his hand.  Cas looks up confused, and Dean quickly presses a kiss to Cas’ forehead.

Cas responds with strength, grabbing on desperately to Dean’s arms.  He hangs on for dear life, letting out a last sob or two.  He stops for only a second, looking into Dean’s eyes before he leans upward and crashes his lips against Dean’s.  Instantly, they’re falling back on the bed together, a mess of rough lips and hands in hair.

Dean’s heart is going through hell, breaking and shattering and being taped back together again as Cas kisses him.

Before long, and much before Dean is ready, Cas is pulling Dean’s shirt off.   He throws it to the floor and goes straight for Dean’s belt.  Dean immediately pulls back, heart fluttering as he takes in Cas underneath him.

"Dean, please - " Castiel says, and it’s filled with such aching need that Dean almost dives right back in.  However, he can see how bloodshot Cas’ eyes are, and he doesn’t miss how the two words are slightly slurred.

"Cas, you’re drunk," Dean says.  "I shouldn’t have even let you kiss me.  This - this isn’t right.  You don’t want this, trust m - "

"Trust  _me_ ,” Cas argues.  ”Stop speaking for me, Dean.  That’s how we’ve ended up so fucked up in the first place.”  The anger fades from his voice now.  ”I want you, Dean.  I’ve wanted you for so long.  The alcohol has only given me the courage I’ve needed.  Please, let me do this.”

Dean inhales deeply.  ”O - okay,” he says.  ”Alright.  Okay.”

With slight hesitation, Cas goes back to Dean’s belt.  He unbuckles it slowly, and then in one, quick motion, shoves down Dean’s jeans and underwear, pooling them around his ankles.  

He pulls Dean down and rolls him over until he’s now the one on top.  Cas straddles Dean’s waist and yanks his shirt over his head.  Dean kicks his jeans all the way off, writhing just slightly with anticipation as Cas then moves to his own belt.  He’s faster than he was with Dean’s, shoving his pants down his thighs as quickly as possible.  With a smile, he leans back down, lips meeting Dean’s as his hand becomes acquainted with Dean’s cock.

Dean can’t even pretend to control himself.  He begins thrusting up almost instantly, breath leaving his lips in gasps when their lips break and their mouths open to let each other in.

It doesn’t take long before Dean’s coming, spilling all over Cas’ hand and his own stomach.  Cas lets him catch his breath then, and something breaks when they’re apart.

Cas’ face falls, and he gasps like he can’t breathe.

"Cas - "

"I’m sorry, Dean.  I’m so sorry. I - "

"Hey, hey," Dean says, reaching a hand up and stroking Cas’ cheek with his thumb.  "Stop worrying.  Whatever it is, stop worrying.  Let it go, right now.  Just - just enjoy yourself, Cas."

"I can’t do - "

"It’s okay," Dean says.  "I’ll do it, Cas.  Please, just allow yourself this night."

Cas blinks, taking a deep breath.  ”Okay.”

"Okay," Dean says.

They switch positions, and Cas does enjoy himself.  He lets himself go, losing himself in the way he meets Dean’s thrusts.  He’s not quiet, not in the least.  He shouts and screams and groans  while Dean is inside him.  He wants to cry again when they’re finished, Dean can see the glassiness overcome his eyes, but he doesn’t.  He takes a deep breath and curls up against Dean.  They fall asleep in a mess, but it doesn’t matter.  The world’s a mess and so are they.  Forget the bed.

Dean wakes up in the middle of the night several times, constantly worried he’ll open his eyes to find himself alone, but Cas stays with him, peaceful in his sleep, and it’s a relief to see the pain gone from his features.

Dean only gets about two hours of sleep total, but it’s the best night he’s had in a long time.

.

The sex has become easier.  Fun, even.  

They’ve created a game out of.  Moving closer and closer to the main living place.  Fucking during daylight hours and in places where Sam or Kevin could easily walk in on them.  

Nobody does find out, and they intend to keep it that way.

.

Cas still isn’t happy, and neither is Dean, but it’s enough to have each other.  They don’t care that they have to dance around Ezekiel.  They don’t care that they have to sleep separately more often than not.  They don’t care that they can’t have the family that they want.

Right now, being together is enough.

Quickies and stolen kisses and whispered  _I Love You_ 's are what's keeping them alive, and if that's the way it has to be, well - so it goes, Dean says.  So it goes.


End file.
